Tagging: Miles Sterling, Scout Sterling, Nick Vaughn, & Greg Miller.
Timeframe: Friday, November 24, 2017
Location: A nearby park.
General Notes: Nick goes to get Scout at Miles’ request, and finally understands why he was so upset.
It took Nick until the day after Thanksgiving to make good on his promise to Miles, but he did it.
The initial moments after the nurses had ushered him out of Miles’ room were filled with little else but Nick’s concern. He hadn’t been grasping what was wrong, because all he could think about was the look of pain on his face and the way his heart rate was accelerating, something that was visible due to the equipment in his room.
Even as he sat in the waiting room with Miles’ Mother, trying to explain what had happened and what had gone wrong, he didn’t quite grasp it. All he could tell her is that Miles was worried about Scout and had worked himself up. It was no secret how much Miles loved his dog, so it was plausible that he’d want to know exactly where she was while he was in the hospital. At least, that’s what they’d decided it was.
He waited there for hours after that, even after the news came that Miles was stable and resting. Guilt plagued him among the plethora of other emotions plaguing him, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave until later on when his Mother was blowing up his phone, wondering where he was. Before he did so, he made sure to ask Quinn if he could take Scout from Greg instead. And, after insisting that it was no big deal and that he didn’t mind the distraction, she most likely took pity on him and arranged a meeting for Greg and Nick to meet up the next day and hand off Scout. Truthfully, Nick did need the distraction. And it’s not like he could help Miles by just sitting around. He wanted to help --- and this is how he could do that.
He didn’t eat much that Thanksgiving, and after he finally explained where he was, the rest of the evening had a grim sort of undertone. Nick had been friends with Miles for years. His siblings were friends with Miles. His Mom loved him. No one wished that on him. Except the person who did this to him to begin with, clearly.
The thought alone made him angry, because he knew someone had to do that to him. Those weren’t injuries you got from just tripping over your own feet. Still, he tried to keep his head clear of those thoughts, because the nurses and the doctors and Miles’ Mom herself said that he was going to be okay. And that’s all Nick wanted at this point.
He didn’t get much sleep that night, and the next day he was up first. He thought about going back to the hospital --- to see Miles first before going to get Scout. But he wasn’t sure if that was overkill, or if he was even awake. So he decided to go get her first. Maybe hearing a little good news later would brighten Miles’ day a little, anyway.
At half passed nine, Nick figured it was time to get a move on. The day prior, after Quinn had sent a text to Greg to make the arrangements, she Nick that the man would meet him at the park that was about a twenty minute walk from his apartment. It was about halfway between both of them, and it was better than meeting in a parking lot somewhere and having to deal with the Black Friday crowd.
Not even bothering to grab his jacket first, but making sure he had his keys and phone, Nick walked out of the apartment and toward his destination. He thought that maybe the walk would clear his head, but it just made him anxious. Anxious to get Scout already, anxious to get her back to his apartment and get her settled, anxious to get back to the hospital afterwards. Eventually, though, he made it. And he was waiting for a good thirty more minutes before Greg showed up.
There was something about him as he walked up to the bench that Nick was waiting at that Nick instantly processed as off. If it weren’t the way his lips were stretched into a thin line as his eyes gazed stonily ahead, the way Scout was behaving as well was a giveaway. Her head was down and she was slinking behind him, almost as though she were trying to pull away from him. Nick’s gaze drifted to Greg’s hand on her leash, noticing how his fingers clenched around it as he kept purposely walking forward. Nick felt his stomach turn and he automatically lifted himself up. Every time Miles had walked her, she trotted alongside him with her head held high. And the times when Nick had control of her leash, she did the same. She never gave any trouble. She was a happy dog. But right now she didn’t seem very happy at all.
Nick took a few large steps forward in order to meet them half way. “Hey.” He called out, his voice too firm to be completely casual. He saw Scout’s head raise to see him, and knew she knew who he was because instead of slinking back again, she ran forward. Greg pulled her back.
Nick’s brow furrowed, and he knew that some people didn’t realize that they could accidentally hurt the dog, but he still didn’t have to like it. “Hey, it’s me --- Nick. Miles’ friend.” He made sure to say, in case he didn’t remember him or realize he was friends with Miles. “I’ve got her from here. Thanks for... meeting me.” He reached his hand out for the leash, anxious for a whole new reason now. He just wanted him to hand over Scout.
He looked back up to Greg, and watched as the blank look on his face curl into a smile. Something about it made him uncomfortable, but a lot of things made him uncomfortable lately. So he didn’t think much of it at first. “It’s no problem. Anything to help the kid feel better. Did he say why he wanted you to take her?” Greg’s tone was curious, but something in his gaze was off-putting to Nick. “Scout and I were having fun.”
Once glance at the dog told Nick otherwise, but he didn’t comment on it outright. “No.” He said slowly, his hand still outstretched. And something in him was getting more cautious by the minute, although he couldn’t quite explain it to himself. “I think he just misses her and wasn’t understanding where she was.” Nick finally got tired of waiting for Greg to hand him the leash, and reached out to take it himself. His hand grazed against Greg’s as he did so, and an unwanted chill went down his spine at the contact. He gripped onto the leash gently, and only looked back up when Greg didn’t let go.
His gaze was hardened at that moment, and instead of his eyes being hardened, Nick could read other things there. Disgust. Anger. Smugness. It startled Nick so much that he wanted to let go, but he didn’t, because at that moment he knew he couldn’t let go of Scout. Not for anything. His stomach churned as realization finally sunk in. Why Miles didn’t want Scout with Greg, why Greg was acting like this.... it was all so sudden and real that it was overwhelming. And he felt so fucking sick that he didn’t put the pieces together sooner.
“I’ve got her, Greg.” He said, tone a little harsh although he was trying hard not to cause a scene. There were families around them; there were kids. Nick didn’t think he’d ever hated anyone more than he did in that moment, and he never thought of himself as a fighter by any means. But at that moment, he suddenly wanted to hurt him. As though that would somehow even out what he did to Miles --- like hitting him would solve anything. His hand clenched tightly around the leash in an attempt to center himself. His gaze held Greg’s, and he didn’t dare look away.
They seemed to stand there for ages, before Greg finally let go of the leash, dropping his hand to his side although he was still looking at Nick in blatant distaste. As soon as Scout was free of the other man, Nick took a step back in order to guide her away. Not missing a beat, she ran to stand by the side of his legs, pressing her body to the side of his calf as she did so.
“I don’t need anything else. Neither does Miles.” His words were quiet, but no less harsh as he took another step back. “You should go home, Greg.” If this were a normal encounter, the words would be spoken with concern. But right now, they held a different meaning. No one needed Greg at the hospital. And if they knew what he did... what he so clearly did, they wouldn’t want him there.
Nick wasn’t sure what to do with this newfound information, or how to process it. But he did know one thing: he needed to talk to Miles as soon as possible. So as Nick sharply turned away from Greg, silently daring him to do something and knowing full well he wouldn’t, he began to make his way home. He’d get Scout settled; he’d make sure she was fed and watered and wasn’t hurt. But then he had to go to the Hospital. He had to see Miles.
Tagging: Miles Sterling ft. Greg Miller, his stepfather
Timeframe: Tuesday, November 21, 2017
Location: Miles’ childhood home
General Notes: Miles is home for Thanksgiving after a whole slew of relationship problems. Greg wants to help — or so he’d like Miles to believe. TW: violence/physical abuse.
This sucked. All of it.
No matter which way he looked at his current situation, all Miles could think about was how much it sucked. Some of it was his fault, but a lot of it was the shitty universe doing shitty things to him at the moment.
He had gone to Lily’s house the night before after informing her that he needed to talk to her. He was pretty sure she knew what was coming; she wasn’t stupid. And when he told her that he didn’t think he could be with her right now, that he’d jumped into it for all the wrong reasons but that she was a great girl, she took it well. She agreed with him, saying she was glad he’d thought about it early enough along. But Miles felt terrible. He could still see the sadness in her eyes.
Lily deserved better. They both knew it. She needed someone who wasn’t going to constantly be distracted by other things. Or more specifically, another person. But it didn’t help him feel any better about wanting to give it a chance and then dumping her.
Now he was home for Thanksgiving, and it wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be. He didn’t think he wanted to be anywhere in particular. But home sucked especially right now. He didn’t mind seeing his mom, of course. It was Greg that bothered him, and everyone else in the family that wanted to know how things were going, what Miles’ plans were, if he was dating anyone. He knew he was lucky to have the family he did, but he just wished he didn’t have to deal with it now.
Of course, this was mostly because his mind was completely elsewhere. He was in his childhood bedroom, lying back on the twin size bed with his eyes closed and his hands folded over his stomach. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the thing with Nick since it happened. He was picking it apart, going over every single detail in his head. He was silly to think that something Nick said while high was going to change everything. But at the same time, Nick had never actually revoked the statement, had he? He never came right out and told Miles he didn’t love him after all. So maybe...
No. He wasn’t going to let himself fall into that bullshit.
He groaned aloud. This was so frustrating. He’d talked about it a little bit with his mom, but he was vague about it. For starters, he didn’t mention that any of it had to do with Nick because that would just open up a whole new slew of questions. He knew his mom, though. She probably had a feeling because she never pried for more information, just stared at him like she was already getting the facts she wanted. Miles never understood how she did it. Just a mom thing, he supposed.
Still, she couldn’t fix it for him. As much as she loved to solve all his problems when he was a kid, she couldn’t do it for him now. But talking about it helped. And she reminded him that it was no one’s fault. Nobody could help how they felt. Even if Miles felt stupid and he was angry at Nick for making him feel stupid, neither of them could be held accountable.
He just wished that could make him feel less pissed about it. Because at the end of the day, even if all was forgotten, things still probably wouldn’t work out the way either of them wanted it to. And that was the shitty part.
He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock at the door. Miles opened his eyes, sitting up a little straighter. “Uh, come in.”
The door slowly cracked open, and Greg popped his huge, goofy head through it. “Hey, kiddo,” he greeted, his wide smile getting under Miles’ skin from the second he laid eyes on him. “All good up here?”
Miles frowned. Of all people in the universe to come in right now... “Um. Yeah, Greg. All good.”
But for some reason Miles would never understand, Greg stepped in anyway, closing the door behind him. “I heard you from my room.” Miles wanted to correct him and say it was his mom’s room, but he refrained. “You sounded distressed. Wanted to come check on ya.”
Miles narrowed his eyes. He’d never understand why Greg spoke to him like he was a child. He always had, since he first started dating his mom when Miles was 20. He absolutely hated it. He hated him.
But Miles never said anything about it. He replied passive aggressively most times, but never had the balls to really stick it to him like he wanted to.
Not until right now, apparently.
“You know, I’m sure I’d have appreciated your super helpful stepdad talks more when I was seven years old, but you seem to forget that I’m a grown man. And, like, my dad was there anyway. So I could really do without them now, thanks.” Miles was sitting up completely straight now, his arms crossed over his chest.
Greg simply stared back at him for a moment, then he bowed his head and sighed. He took a few slow steps forward with his hands in his pockets. “That’s cute, Miles.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. You know, the whole ‘you’re not my real dad’ thing.” Greg smiled, but it was so fake and Miles wanted to smack it right off his face. “You do a real good job of pretending to be seven.”
Miles rolled his eyes. “That’s really not the issue, I can tell you that right now.”
Greg didn’t press it any further. He knew was Miles meant. They stared each other down for a few quiet moments until Greg finally spoke again.
“So your mom told me you were having some girl troubles,” he started, taking another step forward. “You think you could use a guy’s perspective?”
Miles froze. There were several things that felt very, very wrong here.
First of all, Greg had made countless slightly homophobic comments in the time Miles had known him. The first few times he believed that they were mostly jokes (even if they weren’t funny), but as time went on, it became clear to Miles that Greg was pretty serious about it. He was genuinely homophobic, which was a downright laughable thing to be in this day and age. Miles had never challenged him on it. It was mostly due to the fact that he tried to avoid conversation with Greg as much as he could. So as soon as Greg found out that they weren’t actually girl problems...Miles just didn’t want to hear it. Greg didn’t even know that Miles was bisexual and had been with men to begin with, because why on earth would Miles ever tell him that? He’d made it a point to ask Quinn not to divulge aspects of Miles’ personal life to Greg (he made an exception for very vague comments, which was evidently what she’d given him here).
Second, the last thing Miles would ever consider taking into account in his life was Greg’s opinion. He had no idea where Greg had gotten the idea that Miles would want to know what he thought. He was just such a self centered douche.
Third, he just wanted Greg to be away from him. So he certainly wouldn’t be keeping him here any longer than necessary.
“Uh, no, I’m good,” Miles replied. “I already talked it out with my mom.”
“She said you still seemed upset.” Greg was uncomfortably close to him now. Honestly, he was too close just being under the same roof, but still. “She just went to the store to get some things for dinner on Thursday, so I thought I’d come ask you about it in case you wanted to talk it through. Man to man.”
Miles almost felt sick. “I have absolutely no interest in discussing this with you, Greg.”
Greg sighed. “I know you aren’t the biggest fan of me, kid, but I’m just trying to be nice.”
That was it. Miles pushed himself up off of his bed so that he could be level with Greg.
“You aren’t trying to be nice,” he countered, balling his hands up into fists at his sides. “You never cared to be nice before this very moment.” It was true. Something wasn’t right. There was no reason for Greg to be coming in here with this bullshit for no reason. He wanted something. More information, probably. But why? Why did he care?
Then it dawned on Miles. Maybe Greg had a hunch, a feeling that there were no girl problems after all. And he wanted to find out for himself. Conveniently when Quinn was gone.
“Oh, that is just rich.” Miles didn’t even mean to say it out loud, but he didn’t care that he did. He found himself laughing bitterly. “What exactly did my mom tell you?”
Greg paused. Now it was his turn to narrow his eyes. “She told me that you were having relationship problems, and I—“
“But she didn’t tell you I was having girl problems, did she?” Miles was grinning wildly now. “I bet she slipped up, huh? Threw in a pronoun you weren’t expecting?”
Greg didn’t respond.
“And then she begged you not to say anything. Or tried to pretend it was an accident and play it off. But you just had to find out for yourself.” Miles crossed his arms again. “Well, I’ll tell you, Greg. What is it that you want to know?”
Again, Greg stayed quiet. His expression didn’t change at all, in fact. But Miles wasn’t backing down.
“Do you want me to tell you that I’ve known I liked men since I was...probably twelve or so?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. At that, Greg turned his head.
Strike one.
“Oh, we don’t like that, do we? Hmm. Well, maybe it would help to know that these ‘relationship problems’ I’ve been having are between me and my best friend. You know, Nick? Tall, blond, incredibly good looking.” Miles nodded, almost to himself. “Yeah, things have been a little weird between us since we made out here last Christmas.”
Greg was visibly uncomfortable. Strike two. Miles wasn’t sure if it had more to do with the homophobia or just the fact that he knew Miles was purposely riling him up. In any case, he was upset — which only spurred Miles on more.
“No? Well, maybe I can give you a little more insight into what happened, then. You might have some advice for me if you have more information.”
Miles cleared his throat. He dropped his hands to his sides again and strode forward until he was directly in front of Greg. He felt strangely brave right now. It probably had something to do with all the frustration about so many things building up inside of him at the moment.
“See, we were really back and forth for a while. It’s hard when a friendship blossoms into something more, you know? You have to figure things out,” he explained. “And Nick — he’s not out of the closet. Now that I think of it...probably because of lovely folks like yourself! Funny how that works, huh?”
At that, Greg’s head snapped up to look at Miles. He was staring him down. Something didn’t sit right about it with Miles. But he wasn’t about to let this go now. Seeing Greg squirm was incredible. Plus, it wasn’t like he was actually going to do anything to Miles.
“So anyway, that complicated things right from the beginning,” Miles continued. “There was a whole lot of bullshit for a long time. But probably my favorite part was the wedding. You and my mom, I mean. Nick was there, remember? And at some point we decided to ditch the reception, and I ended up coming across your keys.” He laughed. “You ever wonder what happened to your shitty radio stations? Yeah, you’re welcome.”
Greg still didn’t seem all that amused, but the way he rolled his eyes at Miles’ words, then sighed and looked away, made Miles think that he thought that was the worst of it. He held out a hand.
“Oh, I’m not finished. We’d both had some drinks and smoked some weed so, like, you can’t really blame us, Greg.” He shrugged. “The mood was just right, you know? It felt right, no matter where we were.”
Greg was back to staring Miles down. There was the same look that gave Miles sort of a start. But again, it only made him want to do this even more.
“I worry you don’t understand what I’m trying to tell you, so I’ll phrase this as plainly as I can.” Miles looked him dead in the eye. The air around them was heavy. “I fucked him. Right there. In your car.”
Strike three.
It was fast. Miles didn’t really have much time to process. It happened in quick succession. First he felt the hand around his throat sending him stumbling backward. Then he felt his back hitting the wall, groaning as his head came into contact with it. The force of it sent the kids books that had been on the shelf above Miles’ desk since he was little tumbling to the floor.
“You think you’re funny?” Greg asked through clenched teeth. He pulled his hand away from Miles’ neck, only to replace it with his forearm, pressing into it and holding Miles’ entire body against the wall. “You think you’re going to gain anything from this? Huh?”
Miles reached up instinctively to grab onto the arm that was nearly choking him. He had provoked him, sure, but he hadn’t expected anything to come of it. He pulled at Greg’s arm with no success. He tried not to struggle too much, to make it look like Greg had won.
Because that was what he wanted. To win. To overpower him.
The reality of the situation set in. Miles was almost struggling to breathe here, and it all boiled down to the fact that his own stepfather, someone his mother had deemed suitable to marry, had gotten upset over some comments Miles made about something he didn’t like. Now he was holding him against the wall and threatening his safety. When he thought of it that way, Miles went back to being pissed.
From there, it was a pretty easy decision to lift his leg and knee Greg right in the crotch. It caused Greg to let him go, stumbling backwards and doubling over. Miles immediately raised his hands up to his own throat. He took a few deep breaths, regaining control, and then looked down at Greg.
“Fuck you,” he said lowly, his voice a bit hoarse. “All of this because...what? What’s all the anger for, Greg?” He raised an eyebrow. “Because I have sex with men? That offends you?”
Greg looked up from where he was bent over. He was breathing heavily when he stood up straight. Miles thought for a moment that he was just going to turn and leave. But he should have expected the opposite, because if Greg was crazy enough to choke him against the wall, then he was certainly crazy enough to reel back and swing directly at Miles’ face — which was just what he did.
Miles didn’t have time to react. He stumbled backward and instinctively reached up to hold his face, but there wasn’t much else before Greg grabbed him by the shoulders and raised his own knee right into Miles’ abdomen. Miles grunted at the force of it and fell to his knees when Greg let him go. He braced his hands on the floor in front of him as he now struggled to catch his breath, since the wind had been knocked out of him. He hadn’t nearly recovered yet when Greg gave him a swift kick to the ribs, sending Miles crumpling over on his side.
“You’ve always been a disrespectful little shit,” Greg told him. His eyes were dark as he stared down at Miles, and there was a wildness in his eyes when he kicked him again, causing Miles to actually cry out this time. “Someone ought to teach you a lesson.” He lowered himself to the ground to put his face right in front of Miles, giving him a wicked smile.
Miles gasped and struggled to move further away from him, but Greg curled his fist into the collar of Miles’ shirt, keeping him there. He used his other hand to deliver several swift punches to Miles’ face. Miles tried to block it, to push Greg off of him, but he was already messed up enough from the kicking and not having a moment to really catch his breath. Greg was easily overpowering him. Miles couldn’t tell where all the blood was coming from, but he felt it all over his face and could see it every time Greg pulled his hand back right before coming down on him once again.
He didn’t know how long it was before Greg finally stopped. At that point, Miles had his eyes closed, and he didn’t even want to attempt to open them again. He felt severely weakened from the whole ordeal already. Once again, he didn’t have time to get his bearings because Greg used both hands to yank Miles up into a sitting position by his shirt. Miles’ body was fairly limp; he struggled to keep his head upright, and he couldn’t do much to fight back while Greg was moving him around like that. He feebly brought his hands up to try and pull Greg’s off of him, but Greg simply responded by swiftly shoving Miles’ upper body backwards where he sat, causing Miles’ head to slam against the wall, hard. Miles groaned again.
This had been a bad idea. He didn’t know at the time that Greg was an angry fucking psycho, but now he wished he could go back in time and stick to his usual passive comments. He was in pain and honestly fearing for his life, and it was absolutely not worth it at all.
“You need to learn to show some fucking respect,” Greg said darkly. He emphasized his words by slamming Miles back against the wall again. “If I ever see you talk to your mother the way you just spoke to me, it will be a lot worse than this.”
Miles thought that it was probably the mention of his mother that caused him to do what he did next. He hated to hear Greg speak about Quinn like he knew her. As if he had any claim over her. As if she meant more to Greg than she did to Miles. Whatever it was, it had Miles completely forgetting the lesson he’d learned just a moment ago.
There was no rational thinking behind it. He opened his eyes and then spit right in Greg’s face.
Miles had already gotten his strike three, so it seemed fitting that he got a much worse penalty for going even further than that.
There wasn’t much after that he could remember. Another slam, followed by his body flopping back into his bedroom floor. Miles caught a quick flash of his Pokémon bedsheets before Greg started wailing on him again, this time adding more of kneeing Miles in the abdomen for good measure. Miles tried to remember the bedspread, how the entire room was filled with all the things he’d loved and missed about his childhood. He kept thinking about it, holding onto the memories.
It was a distraction, maybe, from the pain radiating throughout his entire body, the throbbing of his head. Whatever the reason, he did it until he fell unconscious, catching one last glimpse of Greg’s clenched teeth followed by his fist coming down on him once again.
She would have gone if her leg was healed up, but even when Aglaea knew she could have pushed herself to stand and move about for five hours, Euphrosyne had all but ordered her to sit home while the “adults” took care of business.
The whole idea of the ball wasn’t really her thing. She didn’t believe in the foundation they were donating to. It was phony, but that was to be expected from a phony corporation led by a phony CEO. So why go? Well, the answer was simple. She hadn’t seen Hephaestus in a few weeks. To be honest, the Grace had been avoiding him. His messages would go unanswered long enough for her to think of an excuse to why she couldn’t go see him.
And maybe there was a fear, an insecurity that young women her age felt at the thought of losing their lover’s interest to someone else. It was silly, but Aglaea knew how these balls were. Drinking and flirting, and pretentious small talk. And one thing always led to another, and most cases to a hotel suite. She trusted him, of course. But even with a divorce pending, Hephaestus wasn’t exactly hers. So she had no right to be jealous or concerned, Aglaea knew that.
Sighing out loud into a fat mug of chai, the Grace flipped through the channels of their TV, wondering if there were any “Snapped” marathons running on a Saturday night. The screen clicked one after another as an image would show up before being tossed away into the deep abyss. She’d forgotten the channel number, otherwise she would have just dialed it in. But one channel caught her eye just enough for Aglaea to freeze mid air.
“BREAKING NEWS: SHOOTING AT THE MET FUNDRAISING EVENT”
She nearly dropped the hot liquid onto her lap scrambling for her phone. Euphrosyne. One of the first contacts under her favorites as she held the phone to her ear, heart racing as her eyes took in the live news coverage on the screen.
“Several shot, critically wounded” ..ring.. “Police have arrived and the shooter has been detained”..ring... “Victims being rushed to Mount Sinai Hospital”.... ring... “Well you’ve tried to reach me, it seems. Unfortunately for you, I’m entirely too preoccupied-” Voicemail. “Damn it Euphrosyne pick up your damn phone!” The youngest Grace felt her voice panic, the very real fear echoing in them as she tried Euphrosyne’s other phone. -- “Hello, you’ve reached the voicemail for Erin Hayden---”
“No.. No no no.” Tears started to fall quickly as she dialed Thalia’s phone. Voicemail. “Doesn’t anyone pick up their god damn phone anymore?!?!” Aglaea felt her breathing come short as the hiccups and tears filled the air she was supposed to breathe in. Then she remembered Hephaestus. Vision blurred while she continued to hyperventilate and dial his phone number, praying to the gods that someone, that he would at least pick up his phone as she sat their like a waiting and useless duck all the while Aphrodite’s words echoed in her head. “...a fragile thing like you are... a mere grace.”
